


Notes: Bokuto Koutarou

by dgalerab



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pining, Small Instances of Homophobia, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 02:17:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7782967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dgalerab/pseuds/dgalerab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto knows he's a hassle, but he likes to think that Akaashi likes him. Sometimes, he even shows it.</p><p>Or: 5 times Akaashi showed that he thought highly of Bokuto and 1 time that Bokuto proved he thought just as highly of Akaashi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I just wanted to write Akaashi tutoring Bokuto in calculus without knowing any calculus and then my love of 5+1 formats hit me. (Sorry about the math in the middle. I'm a math/physics major and sometimes it shows. I know. Horrifying.)

1.

As a top five ace, Bokuto, even in his darkest moments, has to admit he has many strengths. Reading people is not one of them. Kuroo can play people like a fiddle, and Kenma sees their every move as a treasure trove of knowledge, but Bokuto honestly has given up on even trying to figure out what people are thinking.

Akaashi Keiji is an even bigger mystery than most.

His face is a constant poker face. Bokuto can mostly read… well… annoyance on him. Of course, that might be because Akaashi is almost always annoyed with him. He feels a little bad about it, really, because he knows that he’s kind of hard to handle, tries to make up for it by being the best when he can (and being really loud about it, in case someone misses it.)

But then Akaashi starts spending time with him outside of practice too, so Bokuto figures he must at least be alright with Bokuto. Even if Bokuto is a constant annoyance to him. Or… well… surely he must like _something_ about him.

He tries constantly to get answers from Akaashi. He asks for praise, asks for attention. Akaashi never denies him, even though he often is just as blunt with his criticism and his impatience.

Honestly, Bokuto just ends up more confused in the end, but he figures he can trust Akaashi with it, even if Bokuto’s too dumb for it.

That works just fine, up until Bokuto overhears a conversation before a practice match that he was clearly not supposed to hear. Or maybe he was, and the other team was hoping on this to bother him as much as it does. Bokuto doesn’t  know.

“Their poor setter,” one guy snickers. “God, have you noticed how tired he looks? He must spend all his practice time babysitting his ace…”

Bokuto freezes behind the column he’s standing by.

“Oh, man, I hear he gets so worked up sometimes he forgets how to spike. Jeez, what are they even gaining, forcing a skilled setter like that to drag around a moody baby like Bokuto? He’s pretty powerful, but their team is steady as hell without him, too.”

Bokuto slinks away before they can notice him.

He hates being a drag to his team. All his slumps are because he feels he’s let down his team, and somewhere, logically, he knows the slumps are worse for everyone than a missed serve, but when it really comes down to dealing with the hurricane of emotions he’s hit with so often, it’s really only success and the praise of his friends that help them quiet down.

Are his teammates even his friends? Bokuto certainly thinks so, sure, but… what if he’s just a drag for all of them? What if they’re constantly watching, seeing if he’s still scoring enough points to keep around? What if they’re all hoping he fails so they don’t have to deal with him anymore? Why is he so lame? Why can’t he just deal with his stupid emotions? Why does he make the people around him deal with them?

By the time he makes it to his locker, he’s nearly puking with the self-doubt, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to hit a single spike once he’s out there on the court. It’s probably for the best. His team should finally have the luxury of getting rid of him…

“What’s the matter, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi sighs when he sees him. He really does sound tired.

“N-nothing,” Bokuto manages, though he can feel tears scratching at the backs of his eyes.

“Bokuto-san, we’re about to play a game, please let me know what’s bothering you,” Akaashi says, even as ever. “You’ll just start sulking in the middle of the game if you don’t.”

“Nu-uh!” Bokuto cries. He doesn’t want Akaashi to struggle with him in the game. Or any game. Or ever. “I’m not playing at all. I’m quitting volleyball!”

There’s a startled silence as the whole team stares at him. They seem startled, but Akaashi is unruffled. “Bokuto-san, what happened,” he says, a bit more firm. His eyes are like embers, pinning Bokuto to the wall like a butterfly in a collection.

Bokuto doesn’t want to tell him, but he wants even less to disappoint Akaashi when he’s about to get scary. “A couple of the guys from the other team were talking about how hard it must be for you to deal with me,” he mutters, voice nearly fading away as he avoids Akaashi’s gaze.

Somehow, though, he still feels it go colder, along with, it seems, the temperature of the entire room. “I see,” Akaashi says, voice dripping with ice and venom.

Bokuto cringes. He’s certain Akaashi will confirm the accusation, and he’ll probably do it in an elegant way that will leave Bokuto figuratively bleeding to death on the locker room floor.

Akaashi turns away, pulling his jersey over his shirt calmly. “I’ll be sending you more tosses today, Bokuto-san,” he says, and it would sound casual if it wasn’t the most chillingly sharp tone Bokuto has ever heard. “Please do your best to decimate this team. Especially those you overheard.”

With that, he walks out, ever so slightly slamming the door shut behind him.

Bokuto watches the swinging door, bewildered. The team giggles slightly around him.

“Goodness,” Komi whispers, laughing a little. “Now I’m scared to even tease Bokuto from now on. How much do you think it’d take for Akaashi to literally tear someone to shreds.”

“Mmm…” Konoha says. “Probably you’d have to actually physically injure Bokuto for that. Break his nose, maybe, just because you don’t like him. Instant death, I guarantee it.”

“Honestly I think you’d just have to make him cry… But like, on purpose.”

“Oh, damn, just imagine it. Someone makes Bokuto cry and Bokuto runs off to Akaashi. One sniffle and Akaashi would just _snap_.”

“Shut _up_ , I’m gonna have nightmares.”

“I’d just like to take this time to mention, possibly loud enough for Akaashi to hear, how _VERY MUCH WE LOVE OUR ACE_.”

“BOKUTO-SAN IS THE WORLD’S BEST CAPTAIN.”

Bokuto doesn’t register their teasing at all. He’s still trying to figure out why Akaashi is mad. Is it because the other team managed to rile up Bokuto before the game? Oh, gosh, was he _meant_ to overhear? Did Bokuto play right into their ploy? Man, Akaashi must be so mad…

Or maybe he’s mad because he actually likes Bokuto. Enough that he doesn’t like other people being mean to him. Wow, now that’d be cool.

2.

He’s starting to think that might be the case, even though that seems _crazy_ to him. Akaashi barely even smiles at him, how could he like him?

But he’s starting to have his suspicions, smiles or no smiles.

He decides to accept the notion, more or less, when Akaashi comes to practice with a black eye. “Oh, jeez,” Suzumeda sighs, pulling a cold pack out of one of the boxes she keeps around during practice. “You’re usually the less difficult one. What happened?”

“I got into a fight,” Akaashi says stiffly, pressing the back to his eye and sitting down beside the court.

“What? You? But you like… never break rules!” Bokuto cries, dashing over and bending over Akaashi, a volleyball still in his hand, totally forgotten. “Does it really hurt?”

“No, it’s fine, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, looking more annoyed with Bokuto than the bruise.

“What’d you fight over?” Bokuto chirps.

“Nothing, Bokuto-san, it’s not a big deal.”

That only gets Bokuto more curious. It’s got to be a big deal, or Akaashi wouldn’t have started fighting at all. He likes to be more calm and lethal and all. “Aw, come on, Akaashi, you can tell me!” he prods. “What was it? Girls? Did he not like owls? _Does he hurt owls?_ ” Honestly, what kind of monster would hurt owls for fun? He hopes Akaashi punched the guy real good…

“It’s not about owls,” Akaashi mutters, rolling his good eye. “If you must know, one of the boys on the soccer team questioned why I spend so much time and effort with you, and I was… less than cordial in my answers.”

Bokuto blinks once, then blanches. “Hey! Akaashi! Come on, that’s nothing to get into a fight over! You could have just said I’m holding you hostage or something! And besides, I question that all the time, are you gonna fight me?”

Akaashi’s lips quirk just the slightest bit. “It would be fair,” he says, and Bokuto’s heart flutters at that. Akaashi’s really funny sometimes. “But to be honest, Bokuto-san, it was obvious he wanted to fight me anyway. I didn’t feel the need to cater to his sensibilities.”

“Why would anyone want to fight you?” Bokuto blurts, horrified.

Akaashi eyes him funnily for a moment. “Don’t you know?” he asks, eyes narrowing. “It’s been commonplace knowledge in the school for a few weeks now.”

“Know what?” Bokuto asks, and he’s aware that the entire team has stopped moving.

“I’m gay,” Akaashi says, like he’s ready for another fight.

Except for the fact that Bokuto now realizes _‘fight’_ doesn’t actually mean _‘fight’_. Bokuto knows this, because it was only last year that Kuroo, at long last, admitted that the bruises all along his chest were from a few third years who found out about his feelings for Kenma, and took turns holding him down and kicking him, and back then he had the same tense, wary look on his face when _he_ told Bokuto.

Bokuto sees red. He forgets that the whole team is watching his reaction, that _Akaashi’s_ watching him for a reaction, forgets practice, forgets to watch his strength when he shoves the ball still in his hand into Washio’s arms so that he can storm right out of the gym.

Usually, Bokuto likes to blow off his steam quickly and then get right back to being nice to people. This is not a usual situation.

He erupts into the soccer team’s locker room, seething like he’s never been before. “Which one of you hit Akaashi Keiji?” he says, remarkably quietly. His voice seems to be catching on the thrumming anger in the back of his head.

“Look, man,” one of the guys says. “We did you a favor. He’s pretty much drooling over you. It’s creepy.”

“Did you hit him?” Bokuto asks sharply.

“Yeah, I did,” the guy says, realizing that Bokuto isn’t playing along. “You got a problem?”

Bokuto doesn’t answer, just grabs him by the back of the neck and steers him out of the room before the rest of the team can even react, yanking him across the field and back into the gym. The guy tries to struggle away, but Bokuto’s grip is an iron one.

Everyone looks utterly startled to see him at all, much less dragging a kicking and yelling soccer player, but Bokuto doesn’t care at all. He drags the guy in front of a shocked Keiji and presses on his neck until he’s forced into an awkward bow.

“Apologize,” he growls.

“The _hell_ I’m apologizing to that f-…”

Bokuto squeezes his neck a little tighter, enough that the guy’s neck will probably bruise, and he squawks in an undignified manner.

“B-Bokuto-san, that’s not n…” Akaashi says, scrambling to his feet.

“Apologize,” Bokuto repeats. The only thing keeping him from punching the guy’s lights out is that he knows Akaashi will blame himself if Bokuto gets kicked off the team for literally pulverizing a guy.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry, just… gods, you’ll break my neck…”

Bokuto lets him go and shoves him towards the door. “Don’t you _ever_ , _ever_ hurt him again. You or your friends, or I’ll break your face,” he hisses.

The guy blinks back at him, then scampers away.

Bokuto whirls around and glares at the team. “Anyone who has a problem with Akaashi being gay is off the team, understood?”

“Bokuto-san, the team has known for at least a week, I don’t think…” Akaashi whispers, but the team cuts him off.

“We’re all fine with it,” Konoha declares. “Though to be fair, even if, by some weird chance, we weren’t before, I think we’re all fine with it now.”

“Terrifying. We’re being led by terrifying, terrifying people.”

“You went quite a bit overboard, as usual, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, but before Bokuto can protest, Akaashi smiles at him and _wow_ that’s a nice smile. “But thank you.”

It doesn’t occur to Bokuto until late in the evening that even if Akaashi knew he was going to get beaten up, he still could have said that he’s just as tired of Bokuto as everyone thinks he is, or that he doesn’t like him at all. And if the problem was that he was gay, wouldn’t saying he doesn’t like another guy at all be safer?

Bokuto is so torn between being mad about the entire situation and being ecstatic to find proof that Akaashi _does_ (maybe, probably) like him that he doesn’t manage to get a wink of sleep, and ends up managing to hit a serve into his own face during morning practice.

3.

Bokuto doesn’t often get dates, so when Kusumoto Kae asks him out, he says yes without a second thought. She’s pretty, anyway, and that’s essentially his entire rubric for attraction. She’s kind of acerbic, really, so when they end up doing nothing but making out on dates, he’s alright with that.

He doesn’t exactly put much thought into how long it’s going to last or whether that’s what a girlfriend is supposed to be like. He figures it’s kind of weird that they don’t really eat lunch together, but she likes to eat with her gaggle of friends and Bokuto likes to eat with Akaashi. And anyway, she doesn’t seem to mind.

Or maybe she does, because she’s currently in their sitting spot, talking to Akaashi.

She seems happy enough, but Akaashi looks uncomfortable, visible only through the rigidity of his spine as he sits.

Bokuto ducks back to listen to them talk. For the most part, Akaashi tends to take off every time Kae is around, but right now Bokuto wonders if maybe he can learn something from the way Akaashi deals with her. Akaashi is always better with these things.

His heart jumps when he realizes they’re talking about him, then sinks when he realizes what they’re saying.

Kae is basically just listing his worst personality traits. Overly excitable, moody, kind of dumb… Bokuto tries not to let it get to him. Akaashi lets out a slightly terse hum of agreement, though, and that hurts.

“I don’t know how you handle him so often…” Kae says finally.

“It takes patience,” Akaashi says, gently prying open his bento with his slender fingers spread gracefully. “But Kusumoto-san, I do hope you’ve noticed his better traits.”

“Oh, yeah,” she says brightly. “He’s hot and he’s a great kisser.”

Akaashi takes a long, weary breath. “I wouldn’t know, Kusumoto-san, but let me be clear,” he says, in his chilly _I am two seconds away from killing you_ voice. “I am not interested in sitting around and trash talking my captain, _and friend_ , and quite frankly, I find the fact that you are interested in that, as his girlfriend, to be very shallow and repulsive. If you’d like to spend your lunch with Bokuto-san, I’ll send him to you, but I think I’d like to eat alone.”

Kae gapes at him. _Get rekt,_ Bokuto thinks.

Akaashi goes back to his food without so much as looking up as Kae storms out of their little cove and down the hallway.

Bokuto watches, baffled, but he decides to walk into the cove with his usual greeting, rather than bringing it up.

He realizes that at this point he should probably break up with Kae, but he doesn’t exactly know how to do it without telling her that he overheard, and then Akaashi might hear, and then he’ll be upset that Bokuto was eavesdropping, and that will suck. Somehow, this goes on for another week, in which the makeouts get decidedly halfhearted.

In that week Kae seems to despise Akaashi more with each moment, until finally she drops by the gym one day. Bokuto pauses to say hi to her, and Akaashi scolds him for not paying attention during practice.

“You know,” Kae drawls, “if I was you, I’d worry about a homo like him being so obsessed with you, Koutarou-kun.”

The words are out before Bokuto can stress about the effect. “If I were you, I’d worry about getting a new boyfriend.”

Kae looks like he just slapped her. Honestly, so does Akaashi, who’s been frozen ever since Kae’s first jab. “You’re breaking up with me?” Kae manages.

“Yeah,” Bokuto says.

“For _him_?” she gasps.

“The door is that way,” he says, and goes back to the game.

She storms out, and Akaashi still doesn’t move. “I think you’ve started a few nasty rumors about yourself, Bokuto-san,” he says quietly. It’s almost timid, as much as Akaashi can manage that with his blunt nature.

Bokuto shrugs. “Give me a good toss this time, Akaashi,” he says.

“O- Of course, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi murmurs, watching him quietly.

Bokuto tries not to smile, because even if he lost a girlfriend, he heard Akaashi call him his friend, so that’s pretty darn awesome.

4.

“Gods, Akaashi,” Bokuto’s math tutor whines while Bokuto watches his calculus textbook with hopeless, empty eyes.

They’re the first words that have been anything near comprehensible, and it takes Bokuto a moment to actually do the comprehending. He blinks up, seeing Akaashi as he walks into the library, backpack slung over his shoulder.

“How on earth do you handle this every day?” his tutor continues, laughing, pointing at Bokuto.

It’s the first time that Bokuto’s seen anyone question their friendship in front of Bokuto, and he perks up, eager to hear if Akaashi will react the same in front of Bokuto.

Akaashi leans over Bokuto’s shoulder, peering at the formulas. Akaashi is a year younger than them, and math is not his favorite subject, but Bokuto is kind of worried he’ll understand it from that first glance and then give Bokuto A Look for not getting it at all.

 “What seems to be the problem?” he asks the tutor.

“He’s dumb as a box of rocks,” the tutor says, brutally tearing Bokuto’s hopes and dreams to shreds. “And he sulks when I point it out.”

Akaashi’s hand stills over the page where he’s been hovering over the formulas, one finger outstretched to keep his place on the line. “Bokuto-san is very intelligent,” Akaashi says, frighteningly calm. Bokuto nearly falls out of his seat. “Perhaps you haven’t noticed because you’re relying on a need to prove your own intelligence more than your own desire to teach him.”

He turns to him, ignoring the dumbstruck look of the tutor behind him. “Bokuto-san, if you’re free today, please come over, and I’ll help you study properly.”

“Um,” Bokuto says, because _wow he’s never actually been at Akaashi’s place_ , but he’s already sweeping his notes sloppily into his bag. “Okay. Sure.”

They leave, and they’re about two blocks down when Bokuto suddenly blurts, “Wait, why were you in the library at all?”

“Oh,” Akaashi says. “Right. I needed a book.” He sighs. “Oh well. I’ll get it later.”

“Do you even know calculus?” Bokuto asks.

Akaashi smiles. “No. But I’m not a wing spiker either, am I?”

“Ohhh,” Bokuto says, even though he doesn’t get it really.

-X-

Akaashi’s house is immaculate. It’s larger than Bokuto’s and every furniture looks like it was crafted just to be there. It’s not exactly luxurious, per se, but all the sharp angles and neat rugs make it look like a billionaire’s mansion.

“My parents won’t be home until late, so I’ve got to cook dinner,” Akaashi says, toeing off his shoes. “Please take your notes to the table, I’ll help you as I cook.”

“Okay,” Bokuto says, doing as he’s told and spreading out his crumpled notes. Akaashi washes his hands and starts rummaging in his fridge.

“What are you working on?” he asks, seemingly entirely focused, even as he gathers the food.

“Um… I don’t know,” Bokuto says. “I sort of blank out in class. I think there was something with little d’s and… uh… fractions.”

“Please look it up in your textbook, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, sighing a little. “Just the topic.”

Bokuto spends a while looking through his notes and book until he manages to find something that looks like the few notes he managed to scribble down in class. “Uh… derivatives,” he says.

“And what are derivatives?”

“A… rate of change.”

“Can you think of an example, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks, chopping the onions carefully.

“Uh…”

“What is something that could change? Something easy to measure.”

“A… volleyball. Speed of a volleyball.”

“Yes,” Akaashi says, sounding moderately amused that Bokuto’s first thought is still volleyball.

Bokuto laughs. “I’m pretty good at this, huh, Akaashi?”

“You’ve barely started, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, ignoring Bokuto’s pout. “Now, are there any formulas for a derivative?”

“Yeah,” Bokuto says.

“Can you explain why they are the way they are?”

“Uh,” Bokuto says, blinking down at all the letters. “Because… we’re writing numbers with letters now?”

Akaashi pinches the bridge of his nose and dumps the onions into a pan. “A bit more precisely, Bokuto-san. What do the formulas mean? Where did we get them?”

Bokuto chews at his lip. Now the questions are getting hard, and he doesn’t know the answer, and Akaashi’s going to tell him he’s stupid, and then he’s going to kick him out, and Bokuto hasn’t even seen his room yet…

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, very severe. “From the beginning. What does the formula mean?”

“It’s… a rate of change.” He frowns. “No, that’s just the definition.”

“It is, but that was my question. Very good, Bokuto-san.”

“Really?” Bokuto says, watching Akaashi intently. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard anyone tell him _very good_ about a math problem before.

“Yes, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says. “Now, where did we get the formula from?”

“So… it’s… a difference… change… divided by…” Bokuto mutters. “Another one?”

Akaashi pauses, then nods. “And why is that?”

Bokuto frowns at his book, but he’s starting to see where Akaashi is guiding him. Slowly, piece by piece, he gets the answers to Akaashi’s questions, then starts working through the example questions in the book. They take a while, but after a few he starts actually getting them right, and then he starts working through his homework problems. Usually, he loses interest after the first three problems, but now he’s just happy that they’re getting easier as time goes back and it’s very calming to sit by Akaashi as he cooks.

He almost regrets it when he runs out of problems. “I’ve finished,” he says proudly. “Do you want to check my work?”

Akaashi looks up as he spoons food onto two plates. “It wouldn’t help much. I don’t know calculus,” he says.

“But you just taught it to me!” Bokuto gasps.

“If you recall, Bokuto-san, you did all of the explaining. I merely guided you. You’re more intelligent than you think,” Akaashi murmurs, sliding one plate in front of him. “Please eat. You can stay afterwards, if you like, but I have to practice my violin after dinner, and I have homework as well, so you’ll have to be quiet.”

Bokuto gapes at him, mouth forgotten open. “Akaashi… you’re a wizard,” he whispers. Akaashi can teach Bokuto a subject he doesn’t even know, play the violin, practice volleyball, cook dinner _and_ do homework? He has to have some kind of superpower.

“My powers are truly unlimited, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, starting on his dinner. “The next time you’re too loud on the court, I’ll turn you into a toad.”

“Noooo,” Bokuto murmurs, and for a moment he doesn’t realize that Akaashi is joking, and he’s caught contemplating how he’ll remind himself not to be loud when he’s so excited during volleyball. “Can’t I at least be an owl.”

Akaashi sighs, his whole face settling into the exhaustion. “Eat, Bokuto-san.”

5.

On the day that he graduates, Bokuto gets a few stray confessions. They’re not really offers, though, just girls saying they liked watching him play without the risk of real rejection. Bokuto doesn’t want to accept them anyway, so he thanks the girls and takes the letters, smiling and laughing with them as they shake it off.

At the end of the day, though, Akaashi comes to find him. “I just wanted to say goodbye,” Akaashi says, holding forward an envelope. “And give you this. Please don’t open it until you’ve gone.”

For a moment, Bokuto is giddy with the thought that this, too, is a confession letter, but he sees the strangled look on Akaashi’s face, the way he’d said the word _goodbye_ and the fact that the envelope is way too big and heavy for a single letter.

“We’ll still see each other, though, right, Akaashi?” he asks. He’s not going that far to college.

“It has been lovely playing with you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, voice a little faint, but still strict. Bokuto doesn’t know what’s going on, so for once, he just stays quiet. “I’m glad we were friends.” He turns quickly and strides away, leaving Bokuto in a state of silent, sad confusion.

-X-

The envelope has a notebook in it. On the cover, there’s a neat, efficient label that says _Notes: Bokuto Koutarou, Wing spiker (ace)_. Bokuto slides it open gently.

Akaashi’s handwriting is as even as he is, each kanji as perfect as though it was printed from a computer. Bokuto starts reading, settling down on his bed. The contents seem to be an ordered list of weaknesses, solutions, and strengths, each color-coded. He starts reading, carefully, making sure he doesn’t wrinkle the pages.

Weakness #1: Loud.

_Solution: Frequent reminders? Duct tape? PENDING._

Strength #1:  Biceps.

Strength #2: BICEPS.

Bokuto stares at those two. Why is it repeated? Is it to emphasize? Did Akaashi notice his biceps twice? Did he forget the first time? No, that’s not…

 _Oh_ , Bokuto thinks, looking at the wall blankly. One of them is an appreciation of Bokuto’s strength in volleyball, the other is just aesthetic. Or… sexual? Now he’s blushing.

He keeps reading. As time goes by, Akaashi’s notes become more detailed, more intimate.

Sometimes he merely includes How To Guides (How to work Bokuto out of a sugar rush), or situation analyses (Possibilities when Bokuto’s hair gets messed up in the rain: A. Still too excited to be upset about it. Works best when puddles are available. B. Fixes it quickly in the bathroom. C. Sulking. _Solution: Remind him that he carries hair gel with him. If he’s forgotten it, remind him of owl qualities that are not his hair._ )

Sometimes he has drawings. They’re incredible, lifelike. Several of Bokuto’s eyes, a few about how his hair would look properly combed out and dry without gel, _many_ of his biceps and back. A few of the drawings have notes in a different pen, in a sloppier handwriting. They’re teasing, kind of evil. He wonders who they’re from.

He gets his answer eventually, beside a drawing of his smile. A few scrawled notes are there, the mystery writer’s quick **~~Akaashi Koutarou~~** and then a more violently scribbled out **~~Bokuto Keiji~~** and then a scrawled _Fuck you, Kenma_ , which makes Bokuto laugh, because he’s never seen this side of Kenma, but he believes it (honestly, how innocent could the love of _Kuroo’s_ life be?)

Reading this, Bokuto feels as though he’s gone through the full spectrum of possible emotions. Guilt, for making Akaashi work this hard with him. Shame and sadness and some anger for the more biting criticisms, even as clinical as Akaashi lays them out. But mostly happiness and adoration that Akaashi cared this much, and that the strengths outweigh the weaknesses, and that Akaashi has put in the devotion to find solutions to so many weaknesses.

There’s a letter tucked behind the last page of the notebook. It’s short, efficient, and very Akaashi.

_Dear Bokuto-san,_

_If you’ve gotten this far, then you probably know how I feel about you. If you’ve gotten bogged down by the weaknesses and don’t see it, however, let me be clear: I love you. I love you so much, I don’t know if I will ever be able to love anyone this much ever again._

_I know you won’t feel the same way, and I hope you won’t be too appalled by the way I’ve been watching you._

_It’s been wonderful being friends with you, but I can’t keep on like this. It is best, I think, that we part ways, and I do my best to find someone I might love half as much as you, and maybe, I will be happy. It will be better for you, as well, not to feel as though you should rely on someone, and instead realize your own potential for what it is._

_You’ll want to check in on the team, I’m sure, and I won’t take that from you. I also don’t want to let the team you’ve united so beautifully go to waste, so I’ll stay on as captain. I hope that won’t drive you away. I promise, I won’t bother you any longer._

_You are a beautiful, talented person. You have so much potential and I don’t doubt that you’ll flourish even without my help. Please do your best to be happy always. Pick yourself up when you are down and keep going. Nothing could ever stop you if you just keep trying._

_Goodbye,_

_Akaashi Keiji_

Bokuto rereads the letter, once, twice, then a few more times. His chest is tight at first, but then he takes a breath and thinks through it. He flips through the book slowly and mulls over his plan. Then he texts Akaashi those familiar words, so similar to the ones Akaashi has told him time and time again.

**_Alright. Please calm down in the time I’m not talking to you._ **


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the approval of my dear friend therevir, I've decided to leave the editing and just post before I overthink it.

**_Alright. Please calm down in the time I’m not talking to you._ **

Akaashi watches those words for nearly an hour. For a moment, hope flutters in his chest, but he kills it quickly. Bokuto doesn’t know what he’s talking about, just wants to keep Akaashi’s friendship. Akaashi wants to keep it too, but he knows he can’t stay like this.

He nearly texts back **_This isn’t a temper tantrum, Bokuto-san, there’s no use waiting it out_ , **but he doesn’t. Eventually, Bokuto will get distracted, and he’ll leave Akaashi to finally pick up the pieces of his heart.

Still, the fact that he refuses to just give up like that is troublesome. It means he’ll try to protest, and Akaashi will probably have to take care of this face to face, shoo Bokuto away more effectively. He’d hoped Bokuto would just recoil in disgust when he saw the evidence of Akaashi’s stalking, but he should have known Bokuto would be too kind for that. _Strength #17_ and _Weakness # 87._

Akaashi expects him to break within a week, but there’s not a single peep from him.

Nor is there in a month.

He’s still talking to the rest of the team, even the newest members, telling them stories about his new dorm and college. Akaashi does his best not to listen in when the team talks about those stories. It’s just a year and he won’t have to spend time with them. It’ll be easier to filter out their mentions of Bokuto if he’s staying in touch from afar.

Bokuto shows up for practice about a month and a half in. Akaashi braces for impact. He expects a cry of _Akaaaashi_ the moment he steps into the room, or perhaps to be grabbed and for Bokuto to start blubbering about how they should be friends again, but Bokuto barely even looks at him, except once to correct his form for serves, but even then it’s just the briefest glance and a detached sentence and then he keeps talking to Onaga.

For all his worries about how he’ll talk Bokuto into leaving Akaashi alone, he finds himself getting more and more desperate for Bokuto’s attention. It feels bizarre to see Bokuto, constantly vying for Akaashi’s attention and praise, to walk past Akaashi without so much as registering his presence. He tries to remind himself that this is what he asked for. It’s just because he expected Bokuto to refuse that he’s so shaken up by it.

Reminders or no, Akaashi is painfully antsy by the time he gets home, and he can barely finish his homework. Why is this interfering so intensely with his composure? This was the _plan_ , this was what he wanted.

Well. What he wanted was Bokuto, but this was the more reasonable, feasible plan.

He falls into bed without practicing the violin, feeling just plain _off_.

-X-

Bokuto comes for Golden week, watching a few of the practice matches and cheering. Cheering for everyone who’s not Akaashi.

Akaashi finds himself making mistakes more often, playing more aggressively. The team is watching, wondering what’s wrong with him. Akaashi wonders the same.

Bokuto comes and finds them after, makes comments on everyone’s plays except Akaashi’s.

 _Don’t tell me you didn’t notice,_ Akaashi thinks, watching Bokuto with his mouth as dry as paper. _You noticed me, I know you did_.

But Bokuto doesn’t speak to him. He just corrects the team, gives them praise or criticism. He’s as exuberant as usual, but he seems more collected than usual. Or maybe Akaashi is just less collected than usual, hovering behind Bokuto, hungry for a single look.

He turns in earlier than everyone else each night and sulks in his bed, knowing they’re still talking to Bokuto, probably learning all sorts of information about how he’s faring in college and how he’s developing and whether he even misses Akaashi at all.

Bokuto finally gives him one, quick, emotionless look at the end of the week, as he’s leaving. “Oh, Akaashi-san,” he says, and that _san_ burns in the pit of Akaashi’s chest. “Your tosses were all a little high this week. You may want to work on that.”

Akaashi wants to throw himself down on the floor and scream.

-X-

They lose in the semi-finals. Nekoma makes it instead, just barely, ready to take on the second Battle of Garbage Dump, and Akaashi shouldn’t find it quite so devastating to see Kenma’s slightly apologetic look as he shakes Akaashi’s hand under the net, or the relatively vibrant way he turns back to his own team.

The most devastating part of it, though, is when Kenma runs over to catch Kuroo as he dashes from the stands, arms immediately winding around Kenma’s thin shoulders. Akaashi thinks he catches a glimpse of Bokuto as well, but after that, Akaashi takes off rather quickly.

They take a day to get over the disappointment, and then Komi calls Akaashi. Asks if he wants to come with them to hang out with the rest of the team and some of the old third years and laugh away the disappointment.

“Bokuto is coming too,” he says, as though he wants to make a point.

Akaashi almost gives in, almost decides to settle for friendship for just one, one more day if it means that he can focus on the brightness of Bokuto’s smile instead of the crushing weight of failure, of disappointing his team, himself… probably Bokuto as well.

“I don’t think I’m up to it,” Akaashi says, finally. “I’ll be at practice, but I’d like to come to terms with this on my own.”

Komi sounds hesitant, but he leaves Akaashi to his misery eventually. Akaashi just stares at the ceiling. He wishes he hadn’t given his guide to Bokuto. He would have liked to keep looking through the drawings, if only to remind himself why he gave up on the thought of _just friends_ to start with.

-X-

Akaashi tries to pour his heartbreak into working harder. He keeps up his grades, starts teaching a new setter for next year, tries his hand at spiking so that the setter can practice with him. Summer training camp is difficult. Bokuto visits only one day, with Kuroo, and they join the three-on-threes that Akaashi is participating in. Bokuto chooses the three without Akaashi, and he barely glances at Akaashi when he blows through his block effortlessly.

He’s stronger, then, than he used to be, and more calculated. He’s been on the same team as Kuroo for a while, it’s no wonder.

Akaashi wants so badly to see how he’s changed. He feels as though Bokuto is a stranger to him. He hasn’t declared himself to be the best once, he’s taking Kuroo’s jabs without a single whine. He still pouts when things don’t go right, and he’s still deafeningly loud, blindingly bright, but there’s something different about him.

Akaashi wants to know it as well as he knew the old Bokuto, and he hates that Bokuto won’t _show_ him.

It’s unreasonable. This is what Akaashi asked for, and yet he can’t bear it, is more distressed and unbalanced than he ever was as _just friends_. Perhaps it’s because he knows Bokuto is doing this on purpose, is biding his time until Akaashi gives up.

He wants Bokuto to give up instead. Maybe then Akaashi will be able to cut him off without floundering.

It occurs to him, on harder nights, that maybe Bokuto has given up. Maybe he started this out thinking that Akaashi would come around eventually, but has since found new friends and classmates, and has decided that the friendship they used to have isn’t worth the effort of dealing with Akaashi’s meddlesome feelings.

That would be according to plan, but somehow, it leaves Akaashi feeling sick and with his chest clenching in agony.

-X-

They make it past the first few rounds of the Spring Tournament, and Akaashi wants to be proud of the team, really, but he’s seeing the semi-finals ahead of them and the loss they suffered last time, and Bokuto was in the stands cheering them on and Akaashi wonders if he’s noticed the techniques Akaashi practiced and mostly Akaashi feels like a mess of nerves, his usual bone-deep composure frayed until it’s just a thin, cracking layer vibrating on top of his skin.

Bokuto comes to every day of the next training camp, though he’s got a cast on his left wrist. Everyone else hears the story of how he got it, and it’s apparently hilarious, but Akaashi doesn’t.

He watches Akaashi spike for the new setter, and Akaashi nearly falls over with the relief, just the thought that for once Bokuto is _looking at him_.

Bokuto’s quiet as he watches, and when he speaks Akaashi’s entire body whips around, as though maybe Bokuto will finally break through this fragile tension between them ( _I missed you_ or _Akaaaaaashi, how could you cut me off like this, let’s be friends again!_ or _You were right, I’m glad we’re not talking anymore_ ) and Akaashi can finally just fall off this precipice instead of teetering on the edge, desperate to go back to how things were before, no matter how much it hurt back then.

Instead all Bokuto says is, “You have a pretty nice form, but you should be jumping earlier. You’re upsetting your timing like this.”

Akaashi nearly screams, but at least now he has an excuse. The next spike he finds himself turning to Bokuto. “Was that good?” he asks, and he’s shocked by the desperation that bubbles up in his chest as he says it. His inner voice sounds like Bokuto used to ( _Did you see that? Did you see that amazing spike? I’m the best, aren’t I? Back me up, I’m the best, it was good, were you looking?_ )

“Amazing, Akaashi-san,” Bokuto says, voice even, but his lips are quirking just a little, _the asshole_ and Akaashi knows he’s being played, but it doesn’t do a thing to quiet down the cravings shaking through his whole body. Bokuto looks away, and Akaashi spends the entire night trying to get him to look back.

-X-

It’s October when he finally breaks.

There’s not really any trigger, it just… sort of boils down to the wire. The team’s not listening when he tells them to practice receives and Akaashi snaps. “This is why we _lost_ last time!” he yells.

They stare at him. He’s never this loud.

“You all liked to laugh about how well you carried Bokuto along, but now he’s gone, and you can’t even practice properly. Our combos are sloppy, our offense is _weak_ and  you’re just horsing around during practice!”

It’s kind of silly, really, because the team now is full of first and second years who never claimed any such thing, at most watched Bokuto from the sidelines, but right now Akaashi is just seething to know that the team gets more attention from Bokuto than Akaashi does when it has always been Akaashi who loves and cares for him most.

Now that it’s burst out, though, he can’t stop. “ _I_ was the one who knew how to deal with Bokuto, _I_ told you all how to drag him along and yet you won’t _listen_ to me now that _I’m captain_.” He slams down the ball in his hand. “I’m _done_. You can all figure it out _by yourselves_.”

He storms out, but not before he hears someone whisper _“So Akaashi has an emo mode too…”_ and he slams the door shut behind him.

He dashes home in his practice uniform. By some strange chance, his mother is home early from work, today of all days. “Oh, you’re home, Keiji, could you…” she starts, but Akaashi cuts her off by slamming his bag down into the middle of the hall.

“No,” he growls, stomping up the stairs and into his room, slamming that door shut too. “No I can’t do it, I can’t do _anything_ apparently.”

He throws himself onto the bed, buries his face into the pillow and screams. Now that it’s all bubbling up, the screaming is quick to unwravel into sobs, stronger than anything he’s ever felt. For a moment he worries he won’t be able to catch his breath at all, and he’s just going to choke to death over a stupid high school crush on a straight boy.

He hears the door open slowly.

“Go _away_ , Okaasan!” he snaps, between two childishly wet sobs, barely lifting his head out of the pillow.

The bed dips beside him. “So I suppose this is restless, huh?” comes that voice, the one that Akaashi’s been desperate to hear for months now.

He twists around and kicks away in one move, so fast that knocks his head on the wall when he sits, trying desperately to wipe away tears. “What are you _doing_ here?” he asks. His throat is raw and sticky.

Bokuto smiles at him, in a tender way that makes Akaashi’s chest twinge with desire. He wants to lean forward and hug Bokuto close, but he _can’t_ , it won’t mean the same to him as it does to Bokuto.

“I’m giving you the good part,” Bokuto says.

Akaashi blinks at him. “What?” he manages.

Bokuto pulls out his notebook and opens it up to a page. It’s titled _How to deal with Bokuto when he tells me to stop tossing to him_. Bokuto grins. “I figured it was a… an… oh, how did Kuroo say it… uh… analog situation,” he says.

Akaashi doesn’t know how to react, but he’s starting to settle on _annoyed_. The point of that strategy is to remind Bokuto that even when he can’t see success ahead of him, it’s only his own hang ups that are keeping him from it. The situation is _not_ analog, because there is no success in reach for Akaashi. Either he figures out how to cut Bokuto off, or he suffers with a friendship that can never be what Akaashi wants. Neither is success.

“Anyway,” Bokuto says. “I have a speech planned, and I practiced it, and it was really disorganized so Kuroo made me write prompt cards, but I’m pretty sure it’s still disorganized, because Kuroo wouldn’t stop laughing when I practiced.”

“Kuroo has heard this speech, then,” Akaashi mutters, rubbing at his forehead.

“Well yeah,” Bokuto says. “But Kenma saw your notebook, so it’s fair, right?”

Akaashi sighs. Bokuto has a point there. “Right,” he says. “Go ahead.”

“It’s not as cool as your notebook,” Bokuto says, shifting nervously. “But I wanted to do this my way. You know, to prove I really mean it.”

“Of course, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi mutters. He wants this to be over. He wants this whole year to be over so he can just get over Bokuto.

“So… anyway,” Bokuto says, pulling a stack of cards from his pocket. “Uh… yeah. Grades. I’ve been getting good ones. Which is cool, because I’ve been studying all on my own, so I’m like… really independent. But like… I only learned how to study and what I’m good at from you, so… Um… yeah. Anyway, I’ve been reading your notebook thing a lot and I started another one with more notes, so like… I made myself a study schedule and it works really well, and I’m pretty much organized, or like… enough so that I can do well and so I’m super smart kinda and people are coming to me for advice and I’m doing really, really awesome without you.”

Akaashi narrows his eyes at him. “Are you trying to comfort me, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto groans. “Wait, just… let me finish, I know I’m doing terrible. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I would have never figured that out without you, so like… you did an awesome job, but now I’m ok. On my own. But I still _really_ miss you, and not ‘cause you always did stuff for me but just because you’re really cool and smart and funny and I like spending time with you.”

“Thank you, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says warily, because it is a relief to know that Bokuto, even with his functional independence, still wants Akaashi in his life, but that’s still not the _point_.

“So… anyway,” Bokuto says, putting the cards aside. “What I wanna say is that… I really like you. And I know… how you feel about me, and that that’s why you took care of me in high school, but like… I want to pay that back? I feel like it’s my turn to take care of you. So I’m not just… ignoring my potential when I say I want to keep talking to you.”

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says. He wants to get this over with before Bokuto asks him to be his friend again, because he’s not sure he can manage to say no, and he can’t manage to live with the yes.

“Nono wait!” Bokuto says. “What I’m saying here is… please go out with me?”

Akaashi’s breath catches in his throat. His body lights up with some kind of shuddering happiness, but it fades quickly, instead bursting into anger. “Bokuto-san, you can _not_ just ask someone out because they can’t stand to be friends and you miss them.”

“I’m not!” Bokuto squawks.

“Do you even like boys?” Akaashi grits out.

Bokuto cocks his head at Akaashi. “Well, yeah,” he says. Akaashi nearly falls off the bed. “I like everyone pretty. Back in my first year a bunch of guys had a crush on Iwaizumi Hajime, because apparently he’s like a magnet for gay guys, and it was super awkward because I had a crush on Oikawa Tooru instead…”

“What,” Akaashi says, though it comes out as more of a strangled squeak.

“Yeah, and he has that fan club of screaming girls and they’d be so like… silly, but then I’d be there like _yeah, me too_ , and it was terrible. And of course he had a huge crush on Iwaizumi too, so we only made out like once before it got weird. ”

“Oikawa Tooru is gay?” Akaashi says, though that’s not even _nearly_ the biggest question he has right now.

“Well, bi, actually, but… he’s into Iwaizumi more than anyone, I think. At least… that’s the impression I got. We didn’t actually talk much.”

Akaashi can’t manage an answer to that. Several thoughts are searing themselves into Akaashi’s brain, tripping over each other. Bokuto _made out_ with _Oikawa Tooru_. There’s _more than one gay_ volleyball player. _Bokuto is into guys_. Damnit, _Bokuto was right about the analog situation._

Bokuto rubs absently at his neck. “Anyway, that’s not important right now. What’s important is that… you know me better than anyone, just because you cared enough to figure it all out, and you’re super pretty and smart and just… like really elegant and you can probably do better, but… I like you. A lot. So… go out with me?”

“Okay,” Akaashi says, because at the moment his brain has backed out of any real thought.

“Really?” Bokuto chirps, face lighting up.

“Yes,” Akaashi says, the reality filtering in slowly. “Yes, Bokuto-san, I’ve been in love with you for years.” For some strange reason, he can’t quite swallow, and he’s happy, but he can’t stop the prickling feeling running up and down his nose and eyes. “I don’t know why it never occurred to me that you might feel the same, but I’m very relieved that you are, and I would love… love to go out with you.”

“It’s okay,” Bokuto says, reaching out and putting his hand on Akaashi’s head, thumbing at his hair gently. “Cry it out.”

“This is usually where I get you to pick yourself up,” Akaashi reminds him, but tears are already dripping down his face. He hadn’t even noticed he was crying.

“Well, but I told you, I’m doing this my way now,” Bokuto mutters, pulling him closer and wrapping his arms around Akaashi. Akaashi does his best not to think _biceps_. “’Cause it’s my turn to take care of you.”

“You started with my approach, though,” Akaashi manages, allowing himself to slump forward into those arms as he cries. “You’re being very inconsistent, Bokuto-san.”

“Well yeah,” Bokuto laughs. “Because I’m doing it my way.”

Akaashi laughs, somewhere in between two sobs, Bokuto rubbing his back gently as he cries. Akaashi tries not to feel embarrassed about the fact that he’s crying over the mere idea of being Bokuto’s boyfriend after all, and more importantly, doing so in Bokuto’s arms.

He tapers off, sniffling, resting his head on Bokuto’s shoulder. “Hey, you know what’ll cheer you up?” Bokuto whispers.

“I’m already quite happy, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi reminds him.

“Yeah, but,” Bokuto says with a grin, pulling away one arm and flexing. “Biceps.”

Akaashi slaps a hand over his eyes. “Bokuto-san, please,” he murmurs.

Bokuto shifts down into the bed and pulls Akaashi until he slides into the crook of his arm. Bokuto was right about crying it out. The overwhelming part of suddenly realizing his feelings aren’t unrequited has lost its edge, leaving Akaashi with only the sensation of how much he likes how Bokuto smells and the feeling of his strong arms around Akaashi’s shoulders.

He looks different, his hair down and a beanie pulled over it, jeans a little ripped and shirt pushed up to his elbows, and he carries himself a little steadier. “Bokuto-san,” he whispers.

Bokuto hums, nosing quietly at Akaashi’s hair.

“You have to catch me up on the past few months.”

Bokuto grins at him, and that’s precisely the same Bokuto that Akaashi fell in love with, for sure. “Oh, man, I have so many stories.”

Akaashi snuggles a little closer, lets Bokuto clutch him tightly, and just listens to the utterly chaotic stories Bokuto has to tell him. If he thought it was overwhelming how much he liked Bokuto before, it hits him like a freight train now, but at least now he has Bokuto to hold on to, and, more importantly, now he’s starting to suspect that Bokuto might like him just as much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed it! I had fun writing this. :D

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment or come yell at me about Haikyuu!! on tumblr (url: dgalerab)


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